A Month of AUs
by Antigone2
Summary: I decided to challenge myself to write more things outside my "comfort zone". I asked my tumblr followers at idesofnovember. to give me AU tropes/prompts and I'd pick the first 5 and do "Five AUs in Five Weeks". I'll be posting them here as I finish them, hopefully on or before each Sunday of the week, if I can stick to my schedule.
1. Chapter 1

Week 1: **School Admin AU where Usagi's a grade school teacher and Mamo-chan's the nurse**

It wasn't an auspicious start to the school year, that's for sure, Usagi Tsukino reflected grumpily as she walked to the bus stop at the end of the day.

Normally, Usagi loved decorating her classroom for the incoming first-year elementary school students. She did a 'bunny theme' for the first week, which fit in with the spring weather at the start of the school, and also tied into the fact that the students always got a kick out of her given name.

So that's where Usagi was the day before school started – construction paper scraps scattered on the floor and blue tack between her fingers, teetering on a step-stool while she hung up a laminated poster of the hiragana script as acted out by cartoon rabbits, and singing loudly along with the radio blasting in the room.

"Anata to atashi sakuranbo," she belted, wiggling her hips a little.

A sudden "ahem" behind her made her jump and almost free fall off the stool. She caught herself barely, stumbling down onto the floor with the grace of a drunken baboon.

Her friend Naru Osaka -a third-year math teacher- stepped into the room and turned off the radio.

"Naru what -" then she trailed off as she noticed the person standing next to Naru.

The most beautiful man in the entire universe was standing by Naru's side (towering over her side, more like) looking at Usagi with smug amusement that made the blonde's hackles rise in indignation.

Naru cringed a little. "Sorry, Usagi. Just wanted to introduce our new school nurse, Mamoru Chiba." She turned to the newcomer, "This is Usagi Tsukino, she teaches the first-years. The little kids tend to see the nurse a lot the first couple of months due to nerves and various other issues, so you'll probably be seeing a lot of her."

He swept his blue eyes over Usagi, taking in, she was sure, the dried glue she'd accidentally wiped on her forehead earlier and hadn't bothered to wash off, the stray strands of hair escaping the two buns in her hair, and the awkward way she was standing after catching herself.

"Nice to meet you, Miss Tsukino," he said, then quirked a small smile. "Why do I have the feeling I'll be seeing you in my office with more injuries than your students?"

Her offended huff only seemed to make his smirk grow, and Usagi wrinkled her nose and turned in a whirl, suddenly very interested in a poster about reading she picked up from a nearby table. "Nice to meet you, Nurse Chiba," she said in a disinterested voice. "Hope you enjoy Juuban Elementary. See you later."

She tried not to turn and watch them leave, but couldn't resist one last look. Too bad Mamoru caught her eye, that amused glint returning as she flushed and turned back to her work.

After that embarrassing episode, and remembering the judgmental look in Mamoru's eyes, Decorate the Classroom Day was officially ruined.

"What happened to Setsuna?" Usagi asked Naru, as her friend joined her on the walk to the bus.

"Nurse Meioh transferred to the high school," Naru said. "We have Nurse Chiba now." She giggled a bit, "At least he's good looking, right?"

"Yeah," Usagi muttered. "Great."

* * *

Usagi had to admit, Chiba was good with the kids. Patient and understanding, the same gentleness used for cleaning skinned knees as for little kids adjusting to full days away from their mothers and faking a stomach ache to go home.

One day she went to get little Toshio from the nurses' office - after his third scrape that week, the rambunctious boy. "C'mon, Toshi-chan," Usagi called from the doorway, "time to go back to class."

"Aw, but Miss Tsukino, what about recess?" the kid replied, little face melting into a frown.

"You missed the rest of recess cleaning your cut," Usagi said, shaking her head with a tolerant smile. "Now say thank you to Nurse Chiba and let's get back to class."

Mamoru caught Usagi's eye and winked, which made Usagi start a little. He was looking at her the way he always did - like they shared a secret. Usagi wasn't sure she disliked the way it made her heart pound in her chest, but she did hate how it made her blush.

With a quick good-bye to Mamoru, she took Toshio's hand and walked him back to class.

* * *

The universe was conspiring against her. That's the only way Usagi could explain her heel getting caught in that specific sidewalk crack, on that specific morning, on the exact moment that - instead of falling backward on to the concrete and merely breaking her tailbone or spraining an ankle, she was caught deftly and calmly by the warm, solid chest and sturdy arms of the hot school nurse. Because of course.

"Careful, Miss Tsukino," he said, his voice by her ear was an amused drawl that made the baby hairs on her neck stand up - in what she convinced herself must be annoyance.

She had fallen back, her back against his chest and his arms out beneath hers (and, to his credit, he was taking extreme care not to brush against her chest as he helped her stand upright again).

Flustered, she turned around to face him, angrily chiding herself for thinking about how nice he had smelled.

"You don't need to injure yourself just to come say hi to me, you know," he continued, and the thank you she was about to say died in her throat.

"Miss Tsukino!" Mai and Toshio ran up to them, rucksacks on their back and little uniform hats on their head.

"Were you hugging Nurse Chiba?" Toshio asked in that nosy way only children can.

"Does that mean you have to get married?!" Mai asked, eyes wide.

Usagi flushed at Mamoru's rich laughter, and hurried the children inside the building with their classmates to start the day.

* * *

"They are a good group of kids this year," Usagi was saying to Naru as she stapled worksheet packets together later that evening, after the children had left. "Although little Toshio might be the death of me."

Naru laughed, "He's certainly adventurous. But hey, it gives you a lot of excuses to see Nurse Chiba." Naru winked and Usagi looked up, wide-eyed.

"Ugh, though," Usagi said, shaking her head. "Chiba is always so... just... ya know..."

"Yeah," Naru said, laughing. "I think he likes you, too."

"What?" Usagi demanded. "Likes me? And what do you mean 'too'? - OUCH!" Usagi pulled her hand back, cringing against the painful sting pulsating from her finger. She pulled her lips back in a grimace as she held up her left pointer finger, the pad of which was impaled with a staple.

"Usagi my god, you stapled your finger!" Naru ran up to her, looking a the wound sympathetically.

"Your fault!" Usagi said. Distracting me by talking about Chiba, she added silently. She tugged a little on the metal staple and sucked the air through her teeth. Dang but that hurt.

"No, don't pull it out yourself. You need to see -"

"Noooooooooooo."

"-if Nurse Chiba is still around."

"But Naruuuuuu," Usagi knew she was whining, but she figured with a stapled finger happening on the same very day she fell into his arms outside the school, she'd earned a little whining. Naru took her hand and lead her to the nurse's office, as if she was a schoolgirl herself.

Mamoru was going through some paperwork, when Naru knocked on the doorframe and presented Usagi with no words. Doing her best to exaggerate a pout, Usagi showed him the staple, shut her eyes and waited for the inevitable mocking to commence.

Instead, there was silence for so long Usagi squinted open one eye suspiciously, only to see Mamoru looking at the minor wound with gentle concern. "May I?" he asked, gesturing to her hand, and she nodded.

He cupped his hand below hers, his palm was warm and his fingers slightly cool against her wrist. The sharp smell of antiseptic did nothing to dispel the fogginess in Usagi's mind at the softness of his touch, nor did the minor sting as he took an alcohol pad and gently removed the staple, pressing on the injured area for a few moments to stem any bleeding.

"Okay?" he said, and she blinked lazily, looking up into those blue, blue eyes.

"What?"

"It's out," he said, nodding at her finger and she startled a bit, looking at her newly bandaged finger. The amused look was back in Mamoru's eyes, his now-familiar smirk settling across his features.

Usagi felt exposed, and she pulled her hand back, fighting a blush once again. "Thank you," she said.

"Watch for infection," he was saying, while walking back to his desk.

Nodding, she turned to leave, purposely ignoring Naru's gaze, although from the corner of her eye she could see her friend was grinning.

"Oh, and Miss Tsukino?"

She turned, "Yeah?"

"Remember what I said this morning, you really don't need to injure yourself to come say hi to me - you are welcome anytime."

Usagi fled with what was left of her dignity.

* * *

A few weeks later, Usagi was enjoying the warm summer day during recess duty, daydreaming about what she was going to do during August break (eating and napping, mostly) when a shout made her snap out of her thoughts and run toward the slide.

"Miss Tsukino, watch me, I'm surfing!" Toshio shouted, arms out and feet braced on the top of the slide.

"Toshio, you get down from there right now!" Usagi said, and Toshio shook his head, moving his feet further down the slick surface of the metal slide.

It was clear from the sudden panic in his expression he had not thought the next step through and he teetered back and forth as he tried to keep from slipping further down the ramp - clearly regretting his decision and frightened of falling.

"Come here," Usagi said, reaching up her arm and taking Toshio's hand, "C- Aaaah!"

The little boy fell into her arms and Usagi lost her balance and slipped backward - noticing with relief that Toshio landed harmlessly next to her before she felt the sharp pain at the back of skull as her head collided with the metal step of the slide.

And everything went black.

* * *

Blearily Usagi opened her eyes to murmuring and whispers, and Mamoru's handsome face above hers, colored with concern.

"Where...? What...," her tongue felt too big for her mouth. She looked around in confusion, realized she was lying on her back in the grass of playground, surrounded by a concerned group of faces - the principal, Naru and... - Then, she remembered everything with a rush of clarity. "Toshio!"

"He's fine," Mamoru said. "But you hit your head pretty hard on the slide." His eyes were so blue... "Can you tell me your name and the date?" He asked, "And where you are?"

She blinked. Was he holding her hand? His fingers were still so cool, softly pressed against her wrist... trying to focus, she answered his questions dazedly.

"Follow the light," he said, clicking on a penlight with his free hand and moving the light slowly side to side and up and down. Usagi did her best to follow, but it was difficult and her vision kept going double.

"My head hurts," she said.

"An ambulance is on its way." He must have seen the panic in her eyes because he was quick to calmly say, "It's school policy. I think you'll be fine but you likely have a mild concussion."

He squeezed her hand reassuringly. It felt so nice.

Usagi remembered Naru saying he liked her, just before she was attacked by a giant stapler. Maybe Mamoru was a good kisser. She should find out. But what do you do when you want to find that out? Oh yeah...

"Wanna go out sometime?" she asked him, abruptly. He blinked and looked at her in surprise, a slight redness coming into his cheeks.

"Are you sure that's not just the head injury talking?" he recovered enough to ask.

Usagi moaned a little, putting her hand to her aching head. "Maybe," she muttered. She did feel confused and slightly off.

Mamoru supported her as she sat up, his hand warm on her back through the fabric of her shirt. "How about this," he said, "after you get back from the hospital, if you remember this conversation and still want to go out, dinner's on me."

* * *

"Looking forward to seeing you tomorrow," Naru said.

Usagi shifted the phone to her other ear while she laid out her dress for work the next day. "Me, too," Usagi said. "And seeing all my kids."

"The substitute had them all make get well cards for you."

"That's sweet," Usagi smiled. But something was troubling her. "Naru, you were there when I got knocked out, right?"

"Not when it happened but afterward, yeah. Mr. Yamashiro called Nurse Chiba out and I came too because I was worried."

"I have to know..."

"Don't worry," her friend said, "the kids were scared, but once you woke up and they heard you were fine they recovered. The school councilor was available but they didn't really need it. If anything, it was a good lesson in playground safety."

"Right but Naru...," Usagi sat on the edge of her bed and spoke very seriously. "Did I ask out the incredibly hot but totally infuriating school nurse while I was concussed?"

"Yup," her friend said helpfully.

"Great."

* * *

The get well cards were adorable. And the warm hug from Toshio was the best thing of all.

At lunchtime, Usagi went to the nurse's office, knocking a bit on the doorframe and waving.

"Glad to see you are back," Mamoru said, looking up and smiling. "I can say with certainty you were very missed."

Usagi's heart fluttered a little bit at his crooked grin. "Thanks for taking care of me and everything," she said. "After I woke up, I mean."

Was it her imagination or did he seem a little nervous? With his hands shifting into his pockets, eyebrows lifting slightly, his lips in a half smile as he added, "So… how much do you... I mean," he cleared his throat, "how are you feeling?"

"To answer your unasked question, yes," she said, mock-grudgingly. Best to clear the air. "I do remember asking you out while in my addled mental state." Her heart was pounding in her chest. Was Naru right? Did he like her? "I'm holding you to it, you promised me dinner - your treat."

She tried - and failed - to pretend to be nonchalant and that she didn't care about his answer.

"Well, then, Miss Tsukino," Mamoru said, his half smile slowly turning into a grin. "It's a date."


	2. Chapter 2

**Au prompt #2: something like Usagi is an idol and Mamoru is her annoyingly hott bodyguard who she swearsssss she doesn't have a crush on. ;)**

* * *

"I like my men like I like my coffee," Minako breezed, winking at Usagi over the steaming mug she was lifting to her lips.

Usagi stole a glance at their manager, who was sitting in an upholstered chair not far from the small table the girls were sharing in the private annex of the hotel cafe. Besides the two idol singers, he was the only other one in the room. The hotel had made sure their celebrity guests were given privacy. Kunzite didn't look up from his newspaper, and the slight movement of his ice-blue eyes wouldn't have been noticeable to most people, but was obvious to Usagi as an eye-roll.

"Strong and silent?" Usagi ventured, her eyes again stealing to Kunzite despite herself.

Minako laughed, shaking her head. "Every morning," she said, winking. Usagi flushed a little, eyes darting back to her hot chocolate.

"And you," Minako continued. "Go."

"I dunno. What would mine be?" Usagi asked, sipping her chocolate and studiously avoiding looking into her best friend's eyes.

"You like your men like you like your coffee," Minako grinned into her cup, "or should I say 'man' singular? You like your one specific man like you like your coffee: Insisting you don't like it when we all know better." And Usagi send a dark look at her friend.

"I _don't_ like coffee."

"Uh-huh."

A knock on the door interrupted Minako's teasing, and their bodyguard, Mamoru, stuck his head in the door with a professional nod. "Driver is here," he said. "I'll accompany you ladies, when you are ready."

"You heard Coffee," Minako said, setting her mug down with a soft clink on the china saucer. "Time to go."

* * *

Somehow it'd leaked that they'd be rehearsing at the venue, and the paparazzi were out in droves as the car drove up. As they walked to the stage door, the calls were instantaneous. "Minako! Minako! Smile a bit for the camera!" Minako grinned, flashing a victory sign at the cameras. Usagi gave a quick smile, hands pushing her hair out of her face, and waved.

The calls got a bit more aggressive as they got closer to the door, and, sensing this, Mamoru moved to place his body between the girls as the cameras as they walked.

Tall and relatively slim, Mamoru carried himself with the polite professionalism afforded to his job as bodyguard for the Crescent Girls, but the power coiled in his shoulders and calculating stare revealed someone who knew how to fight - how to survive out on the streets. The Crescent Girls wasn't his first security gig, but his first as a bodyguard. Kunzite had arranged it, after years of friendship taught him Mamoru was not only good in a fight, but intelligent as hell, and rough edges polished considerably quickly. He trusted Mamoru to keep his girls safe - even as they amassed fans all over the country.

"MINAKO! MINAKO DID YOU GAIN WEIGHT?!"

"ARE YOU SLEEPING WITH YOUR PRODUCER?"

Minako answered the rude questions with a wink and hair toss, and Usagi tucked her head lower. Things like that didn't bother her too much - they were just trying to get a reaction - but being shouted at was never fun.

"THAT KID, EMI-something, DIE YET?!" someone shouted over Mamoru's arm, almost in Usagi's ear. She jumped and looked wide-eyed at the photographer - a paparazzo from a sleazy website, who was referencing a televised visit to a children's hospital Usagi and Minako had attended recently, where they sang to a little girl named Emiko, who was undergoing aggressive cancer treatment. Usagi had really bonded with the girl, sending her letters and postcards when she could - as far as she knew, Emiko was doing well, but to have it shouted in her face like that...

The man - on the short side but wide and muscular - tried to push his way past Mamoru to get more in Usagi's face. "DID YOU ALREADY FORGET? HA HA, I BET SHE'S-" Suddenly the man stopped short, as Mamoru fully stepped in front of his charges and leveled the man with a dangerous, ice-cold stare.

"I hardly think that's an appropriate line of questioning, do you?" he said, voice dark. He flexed his fingers a little, still staring down the photographer - while Usagi and Minako were ushered into the side door by Kunzite.

Mamoru turned and left the man sputtering. Mamoru hadn't touched him, but next time even the threat of assault charges wouldn't hold him back from reshaping the man's face. At least, that was the impression he made sure to leave him with.

Inside the sanctuary of the rehearsal space, Usagi gasped a bit for air.

There was Kunzite's calm voice by her shoulder, "They'd get more money for a shot of you angry or upset," he explained. "Try not to let it get to you." Usagi nodded, trying to blink back the tears burning behind her eyes.

There were a lot of things she really loved about being an idol, but moments like this... Suddenly, a soft white handkerchief was pressed into her hand. She looked up at Mamoru, and he put one strong, cool hand on her shoulder. "It's okay, Usagi," he said, that smoky voice of his by her ear. "I'll always be there." He squeezed her shoulder - just for a moment, something sparking in his eyes that was quickly extinguished.

The lump in her throat prevented her from answering, and she found herself touching the spot on her shoulder, watching him walk away. Somehow, Mamoru always made her feel safe - yes, it was his job, but more than that - the shoulder squeeze filled her with comfort more than the promise that her loyal bodyguard would punch a photographer for making her cry.

Minako cleared her throat, looking at Usagi with a knowing smirk that made the smaller blonde blush and hurry up on stage.

Dance practice wasn't Usagi's forte, really, but that day seemed to be particularly grueling for her, she couldn't seem to get her hips to cooperate. Their choreographer knew Usagi's talents lay more toward adorable (she had a sunny, gentle stage presence that complimented Minako's charisma and flawless perfectionism), and thus always kept the moves were simple - a shoulder shrug here, hand movements there, nothing too complex.

Still, the incident outside put her in a bad mood, and it was showing in her work.

"Take five!" Takashi said, with a sigh and Usagi grabbed a towel, swiping at the sweat on her brow with embarrassment. "We'll go over it one more time." He checked his watch, Usagi knew they were already over the allotted time.

"I'll work on it tonight," she promised. "By tomorrow, it'll be all set." Minako gave her a thumbs-up and grinned.

"I have no doubt, Usagi. We'll be _on_ for this concert in a few days."

Minako and Usagi - The Crescent Girls - had catapulted into fame rather quickly, and were probably not destined to stay there long, but Minako was determined to enjoy every minute while she could. Usagi, too, enjoyed the perks. Although dancing to the upbeat hits was tiring, she liked singing the heartfelt love songs, her back-ups breathy and sweet to Minako's bold, rich voice. She also liked visiting with fans and especially loved fan events.

But, man. All the practices and time away from her friends and family, well. That part kinda sucked, she reflected.

Usagi pushed open the heavy side stage door, the cool outside air pricking on her sweaty skin. Mamoru was leaning against the wall, smoking a cigarette and chatting with Kunzite. His bright blue eyes looked over to Usagi and then back behind her, habitually taking in the surroundings.

Usagi wondered if she should feel self-conscious about her damp hair and white tank top sliding off one shoulder, that she was pink faced and breathless from practice, but she was past worrying how she looked around Mamoru, gorgeous as he was. As her bodyguard, the man saw more of her than her own mother did, at this point. There were times, still, though, when he looked at her in a way that made her heart flutter a little - but she was unsure if that was her imagination or not.

Mamoru's eyes slid back to Usagi, and he put his cigarette to his lips and smiled.

"Dance practice go well?" Kunzite asked, almost knowingly. Usagi gave an annoyed little shrug. She turned to Mamoru.

"Why don't you ever watch?" she said.

He smiled again. "I do."

* * *

Kunzite got the hotel to give the small exercise room to Usagi for her to practice her dance that night. Minako had gone with Kunzite to a new club opening, but Usagi had begged out. She gave the excuse of practicing her dance all night, but after about 45 minutes she decided she'd sweated enough and headed up back to her room.

It was close to midnight when there was a knock on the door; Minako must be back and stopping in to say hi before heading back to her room with whomever she managed to pick up at the club (or perhaps with her manager, Usagi never could figure out if they were really together or not) but when she opened the door, it was Mamoru who stood there.

He raised an eyebrow at the fluffy robe she was wearing - hair down and air dried in slight curls from her shower - the rental movie on the TV and the room service she'd ordered. She'd obviously been in the room a while. "Dance practice going well?" he said, a slight smirk pulling at his lip. She made a face and motioned for him to come in.

"I did work on it!" she insisted. He closed the door behind him and sat in a chair by the window, watching as Usagi pulled on a strand of her hair, twisting a bit around a finger. "How was the club opening?"

"Hectic," Mamoru said, "but it wasn't long before Minako was in the VIP section up top, which made it easier to keep an eye on things." She nodded, touching a strawberry from her room service plate. She motioned for Mamoru to help himself and he waved it off politely. "Minako left early out the back when the music turned a bit country for her taste."

She wondered about all the beautiful, scantily clad girls at the club - Mamoru was working, and difficult to distract, but she was certain they'd tried. She wondered why she'd never seen him bring anyone back with him (once he was off the clock, his time was his own of course). Perhaps he was just careful about it. Perhaps she shouldn't be dwelling.

"I came by to let you know I called Juuban Hospital earlier and Emiko is doing really well," Mamoru said. Usagi looked up in surprise and he smiled, a warmer one then she'd seen in a while. "I saw before you were shaken by that pap, so I wanted to ease your mind. She got your most recent postcard, too."

"Thank you," she said, feeling happy relief. "It reminded me to send her another one, too."

She looked at the way his fingers rested on his knee, his long legs stretched out in the front of the chair. On the car ride home from rehearsal, her knee brushed his in the backseat the entire way home. The silence seemed charged, suddenly. She lifted her gaze to his and he blinked, shifting his eyes and standing.

"Well, I'll see you tomorrow, Usagi." He grabbed a strawberry from the plate on his way out, giving her a quick wink that made her knees a bit weak.

"Wait-" she said, and he turned. "Do you-" _Do you know what you_ do _to me?_ "Do you want to see my dance routine?" She instantly flushed as his eyebrows raised a bit. "Maybe you can help," she added, lamely. What an idiot thing to ask, to say. But Mamoru smiled and shrugged a bit.

"Sure. Love to."

It felt a bit silly - she changed back into her work out clothes - leggings and tank top - and twisted her hair into twin tails which she tied at the nape of her neck, then went back out into the main room of the suite. "Okay!" she said, laughing at herself a bit. But Mamoru was smiling too, his gaze amused and happy and something else she couldn't identify. His usual intensity, she supposed.

It was actually kind of fun - the song was one of their upbeat numbers, cheerful and happy. " _Love love girl and boy_ ," Usagi sang, her voice light and airy against the recorded voice of Minako - stronger and in the lead. She thought she may have even had it down, but Mamoru shook his head, laughing a bit.

"You aren't stepping back on your left foot," he said and she looked up in confusion.

"What?"

He reached over and turned off the music. "Takashi wanted you to put your weight on your back foot while circling your hips, it will keep your balance better." He walked over and stood behind her. "See, I told you I watched," he added, and although his was tone light, there was something under his words that made Usagi's heart pound faster.

From behind, Mamoru went to touch her waist, but stopped when the brush of his fingers against her hips made her gasp. He pulled back a bit, then, "May I?" he asked, his voice soft and husky.

She nodded and answered, flustered, "Yes, sure. I mean... yeah. Yes." He laughed a bit, mostly air, and it tickled the small hairs by her ear.

He rested his fingers on her hips again, pulling back just slightly so she stuck back her left foot automatically, using it to press her weight into the floor. Then, muscle memory had her finishing the gyration, although she brushed against Mamoru's legs and flushed violently.

"Oh!" She laughed, turning and looking up at him. "I think that helped..." she trailed off at the look in his eyes, a dark intensity with what almost seemed to be affection dancing beneath the surface. "Thanks," she managed to whisper. He hadn't moved his hands from her sides, the tickle of his fingers as they brushed against the skin at the base of the shirt was sending goosebumps up her arms.

He sighed, then, shutting his eyes and leaning down so his bangs brushed against her forehead, black hair mingling with blonde.

Surely he could hear her heart pounding through her chest, as she tugged on his shirt a little and lifted her chin - a cue for him to bend his head, lips barely touching hers...

"This probably isn't a good idea," he murmured, and she wanted to kiss him _so badly_ she could barely think.

"Why?" she whispered back, eyes wide. Wasn't the passionate affair with the bodyguard practically tradition for young pop stars?

But Mamoru just shook his head, "I don't think I'm good for you." But he didn't move away.

Unable to help herself, Usagi reached up and caressed the nape of his neck, the slight shudder of response through his body sending a thrill through hers. "Why don't you let me be the judge of that?" She said, tugging once again on his shirt and pulling slightly on his neck with her other hand, an obvious invitation to a kiss.

He let his lips brush hers slowly... once, twice... then they sunk into the kiss. His lips were warm and urgent, coaxing hers open and she was happy to oblige, deepening their embrace by sliding her arm around his waist, the other tangling in his hair. The hands on her hips tightened and pulled, pressing them closer together.

Usagi pulled back enough to look him in the eyes, now a dark, stormy blue like an ocean in a hurricane.

"Stay," she said.

* * *

"You are sleeping with Mamoru, aren't you?" Minako said as the driver closed the door on them.

Usagi blinked, and her eyes darted to where their bodyguard stood, talking to Kunzite. He was due to join them in the car on the way to the concert at any minute.

"Well?" Minako prompted, smirking a bit. "Told you you liked coffee."

She flushed, "Are we that obvious?"

Her friend grinned, and shrugged. She was obviously pleased at the situation, "I'm glad you are having yourself a fling, girl. You deserve it!" She gave Usagi's arm a friendly punch and the smaller blonde blushed again.

"We'll just have to play it extra safe at events," Minako joked, "So nothing happens to his cute little butt."

Usagi opened her mouth to answer, thinking about how horrible it would be if Mamoru got hurt and it was her fault - no laughing matter to her at all, despite Minako's dimpled giggle.

But then Mamoru opened the door and go into the car, and the conversation died except for Minako's smirking eyebrow wiggles the entire ride.

* * *

"I don't think you should be my bodyguard anymore," Usagi said later that night, coming out the side door of the stage into the cold night air. From where they stood they could hear the bass of the opening band, the cheering of the crowd.

"And why is that?" Mamoru said, stamping out his cigarette and looking at Usagi with a quirked brow.

"I don't want you in danger!" Usagi said. "My safety might mean you getting hurt! I mean, what if someone comes at me with a knife? A gun?!"

Mamoru's face was dark for a moment. "Then I'd hate to be him," he said, and for a second a chill went up Usagi's spine. She recovered quickly -

"But, I mean, I don't want you to... I don't..." She bounced a bit on the balls of her feet. Her costume (one of many) involved a short skirt and belly shirt and the night air was chilly. She could feel the layers of lipstick, and the glitter on her eyelids felt like a mask. "I know to you this is probably just... ya know... fun. A fling. But for me... I _really care_ about - I mean -"

"Bodyguard or not," he interrupted with a wiry shrug, "I won't ever stop protecting you."

His eyes scorched for a second, as they look at her. His meaning was clear to Usagi - this was no fling for him, either. She swallowed and nodded her understanding, leaning back against the wall next to him. The back of her fingers were brushing up against his, and he stretched out his fingers - long, tapered, unusually cold, and curled them around hers. She squeezed and he squeezed back.

The night stretched out around them.


	3. Chapter 3

AU prompt #3 - Wrong number AU

* * *

Mamoru sighed and put his pencil down, rubbing his eyes. He regarded the neat, organized notes he'd written on the paper in front of him and sighed. The only sounds in the apartment was the ticking clock and some muffled early evening street sounds from below. He stood, shaking out his leg which had fallen asleep, and walked to the kitchen, opening a bottle of tea and taking a sip. He made a face.

That was the fateful moment when the phone rang. "Hel-" he couldn't even get the greeting past his lips when a shrill and excited voice was in his ear.

"I GOT THROUGH! Oh my gosh! Did I win?!"

"I-," Mamoru shook his head, holding the phone a bit away from his now-ringing ear. "What?"

"Is-isn't this Jpopsuki?" her voice hitched a bit, "The... radio station? Giving away tickets to the Yume Yume concert?"

"No," he said, still processing what was happening. "Sorry, kiddo."

"Kiddo?! I'm 15!"

Before he could think of a response, she made a disappointed moan that again had him holding the phone away from his ear.

"Oh no! They just announced someone else woooooooon!" The whining was truly impressive.

"Better luck next time," Mamoru said.

Chuckling a little, he hung up the phone. Poor girl, he thought, not feeling that guilty for being so amused. He took a long, satisfying sip of his tea, and settled back down to work.

* * *

The second call came only a few minutes later; Mamoru picked up the phone without really thinking about it. "Hel-"

"Do you know Fuji-san?" That same female voice, sounding a little nervous and giddy.

Mamoru pictured the iconic mountain. "Of course I know of-"

"Well tell him I said hi!" she shouted and then there was a long, silent pause.

"Was... was this supposed to be a crank call?" he finally said.

"Yes," she answered, then more silence. "To get back at you for not being Jpopsuki."

"You realize you are supposed to hang up after crank calls?" He said, not able to keep the laughter out of his voice. She made another offended little noise and he shook his head with a smile. She must have used redial. "What's your name anyway, Wrong-Number Girl?"

"I'm not going to tell you my name! You could be a 50-year-old pervert for all I know!"

She had a point of course, but he bristled nonetheless. "Well, I'm not. I'm a high-school senior," he said.

"So a 17-year-old pervert, then," she quipped and he shook his head.

"Honestly, Wrong-Number Girl," he sighed. "I suppose I'll have to keep calling you that, then. In lieu of a name."

"Usagi."

He paused. "What?"

"My name is Usagi."

He swallowed, his throat suddenly dry as he pictured the small, blonde, bundle-of-energy-in-a-Juuban-uniform he knew - the one he couldn't seem to run into without inadvertently (or sometimes purposely) insulting, and the one he couldn't seem to go a full week without running into at least once. How many 15-year-old girls named Usagi could there be in Tokyo?

"Uh, hello, Mr. Not Jpopsuki?" He realized the girl - was it really Usagi? - had been talking in his ear and he hadn't heard her at all.

"Yeah?"

"Are you gonna tell me YOUR name or not? Or should I keep calling you Mr. Not Jpopsuki. It's kinda a mouthful, ya know!" She giggled.

Oh yes, this was definitely his Usagi. The dramatic inflection and all. He opened his mouth the words at the ready: _"Oh ha ha Odango Atama guess who this is-"_ but something stopped him. Something in her giggle. Had she ever giggled like that around him in person?

"My name is uh... Chijou Ei...," he said, thinking fast. He instantly felt like slapping himself on the forehead for choosing such an obvious pseudonym. There was no way she wouldn't figure out he just mispronounced the kanji in his name -

"Good! Mr. Not Jpopsuki, it's much easier to say Ei," she bubbled cheerfully. Mamoru felt something flutter in his chest, it must be relief. He'd never live it down if Usagi had caught him in a lie.

"So where do you go to school?" he asked, quickly, suddenly feeling intense nervousness and wanting to fill the silence. He desperately didn't want her to hang up.

"Juuban," she said. "And you? Juuban too?"

"Moto Azabu," he answered almost automatically. Better to tell the truth, he thought. He didn't know enough about the public schools in the area to effectively lie about it... then again...

"I know someone who goes there," she said, her voice suddenly taking on a different, tighter tone. "You might know... but, he's kind of mean..." she mumbled. "Never mind," she added, quickly. "Let's talk about something else." Mamoru was in agreement on that.

"Oh!" she said, suddenly. "You are probably busy, huh? Azabu is a really elite school and I'm probably keeping you from your homework."

He shrugged, knowing she couldn't see him, that she didn't know a smile was tugging on his mouth. His homework had never been further from his mind. "What about you? Surely you must be a studious type," he said, unable to help himself, and her embarrassed chuckle on the end of the line was all kinds of endearing.

"Well," she hemmed and hawed a bit. "I am not the best student, I guess."

"Maybe I could help you." Mamoru hadn't known his voice could be that soft and kind at all, let alone when talking to Usagi. It felt like a breakthrough.

The silence in response stretched on so long he almost took it back, but her response came finally: "Oh, wow. Um. Thanks," her voice was small, kinda surprised. Then he _felt_ her smile as she said, "Ha ha, not right now though! So what kind of music do you like?"

* * *

He'd lost track of the amount of phone calls they'd shared before the inevitable happened.

He was just finished helping Usagi with some of her English homework (he adored imagining her cradling the phone on her shoulder, spinning the pencil between her fingers, concentration in those sky blue eyes...) when she hesitantly said, "Hey, Ei-chan? Did you ever... wanna meet in person sometime?"

"I-," he froze, knowing this was coming but unable to form a response. He'd never quite figured out what he'd do when this came to pass.

Usagi and he had grown fairly close through their phone calls, (as close as someone could get while lying about their identity, he supposed) but things had remained pretty much the same in person. He still noticed her sunny smile and bright eyes, had trouble looking away from the way her hair curled around her ears... and he still always opened his big mouth and made those pretty eyes flash and that pretty face flush with annoyance.

On the phone, she'd talked to "Ei-chan" about Mamoru a few times - he'd would always awkwardly change the subject until Usagi got the hint and stopped bringing it up. He wouldn't have minded listening to her thoughts, it just seemed dishonest to do so. He was happy that she wasn't as negative as he'd assumed she'd be when mentioning him. She found him good-looking, but stuck up, it seemed.

Still, somehow, as Ei, he was able to be patient and kind and joke with her in a way that had her giggling, instead of fuming. He was not ready to give that up.

"My friends say it's a bad idea," Usagi continued, "like 'oh my god, Usagi, what if he has horrible BO or something?' 'What if he's shorter than you?!' 'You can't know these things over the phone.'" As she mimicked her friends, she took a different tone for each one, apparently attempting impressions of them. Mamoru had spoken to Usagi's friends before and all he knew for certain was that she was doing a horrible job of impersonating any of them. It was adorable, though.

"This Saturday at the Fruits Parlor, ya know the one off Juuban-dori?" Usagi said. "I'll be there around 3pm, maybe you could join me or something."

"Usagi-"

"Don't worry," she added, giggling again. "I told them I didn't care about what you looked like or anything, I just want to meet my new friend for reals, ya know?"

Mamoru sighed.

She didn't deserve this.

"Usagi, listen," he said, sighing deeply. "There is something I have to tell you-"

His tone sounded serious, even to him, and Usagi picked up on it right away.

"Oh gosh! Never mind. It was a dumb idea! Sorry! But, ya know, I'll be there just in case you change your mind, okay?" And then all he heard was the monotonous pulse of the dial tone.

* * *

He wasn't going to go, of course. But she hadn't called since she'd invited him, and he felt some strange obligation to go, even if he didn't end up talking to her. So, that's how he found himself in the Fruits Parlor at 3pm on that Saturday.

Still, he'd probably be there anyway, he reflected. It was a hang out of his before even Usagi and the girls started going - but he had to admit he was a much more frequent customer since Usagi started making it and the adjoining arcade her home away from home.

Mamoru watched Usagi sit at the table at the cafe, manga in hand, every so often looking toward the door with a doubtful look on her face. Running his hand through his hair, he had an inner debate with himself that he ultimately lost. Better Usagi never called "Ei-chan" again than for Mamoru to lose her completely by admitting he'd lied.

It was almost four when she closed the manga and stood up, and Mamoru noted the disappointment evident on her face and felt like he'd been punched. "Oh dammit," he muttered and walked over to the table.

"Your date a no-show, Odango Atama?" His voice - he found to his pleasant surprise - was warm, not combative, and Usagi responded in kind.

"Yeah," she said, sniffling a little. "I mean, I don't think it was even a date. I didn't expect him to come but- "

"Usagi," Mamoru said. "There is something I have to tell you."

But he didn't have to. Because it was the same serious, resigned tone in his voice, the same words, and he saw everything click behind her eyes.

"Ei...," she murmured, blinking. She took a step back and Mamoru cringed. He could see her processing, eyes widening as she was probably remembering and reworking every conversation they'd had.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I just didn't want-"

"Was this all a joke then?" her voice caught a bit, tears filling her eyes. "Some new way to laugh at me?"

"No," he said, shaking his head violently and fighting the urge to reach out to her. "I swear, Usagi, it wasn't. I thought-," he clenched his fists and sighed. "I thought that maybe you would stop calling if you knew... who I was."

For a long time she just looked at him, unshed tears in her eyes still. "Then I guess you don't know me very well," she said, finally. Clutching her manga in her hands like a lifeline, she turned and left the cafe.

He let her go.

* * *

That night he tried and failed to study, tried and failed to read. He'd lost the warm, funny girl he'd grown accustomed to chatting with on the phone, at the same time he lost the little blonde spitfire he loved seeing in real life.

But he was sure he deserved it.

The phone rang and he picked it up eagerly, "Usagi, thank g-,"

"Chiba?" the voice on the other end was very clearly not Usagi. "It's Matsumoto? From study group?"

"Oh," he said, shaking his head as the disappointment nearly suffocated him. "Of course. What do you need?"

He talked about school work out of habit, and when he hung up the phone he couldn't even remember what they'd discussed. The phone rang again, and he picked up without thinking.

"Matsumoto, did you forget something?"

Then, to his delight, a warm, beautifully familiar and newly shy voice was on the other end. "Do you know Fuji-san?" she asked.

He didn't try to fight the smile spreading over his face. "Hi there, Wrong-Number Girl."

"Hey, Not Jpopsuki," she answered, her voice a bit nervous, a bit breathless.

"I'm really glad to hear from you," he said, sincerely. Once again, somehow, he could just feel she was smiling on the other end of the line.

"Remember that mean boy I told you about? The upperclassman, from Azabu?"

"Yeah," he said, a wiry smile on his lips, "I remember."

"Lately I've been thinking...," there was a pause. "I think he might not be so mean."

"Oh?"

"I found out he's... capable of being ... nice?"

"It's as a big a surprise to me," Mamoru said.

"Thing is, I think he might... care about me? I don't... I don't know."

Mamoru struggled to keep his voice even, "Do you care about him?"

"I think I could... really like," she took a breath, "... like _really_ like... him. Both sides of him - the nice side I talk to on the phone and the teasing side that I never think I completely, like, _got_. Until now."

Mamoru struggled to figure out what to say next, and found himself slipping into his old, snarky tone despite himself. But somehow the edge was gone, now. "Still think he's good looking through, right? Because that's very important."

And she laughed, and it was a beautiful sound. "Yeah, but his good looks are much less infuriating to me now." She hmm'ed a little, like he learned she did when she was deep in thought. "Do you think..." her voice was small now, almost timid, "do you think he likes me back?"

He had to swallow against the lump in his throat to respond. "Yes, in my expert opinion, I think he does."

"Really?!" her voice had that excited trill to it, like when she thought she'd won concert tickets. Only, thankfully for his ears, at lower decibels now.

"Yes," he said, wondering if he was dreaming. "Really."

"I was thinking -," she cut herself and then seemed to psych herself up. "I keep wondering," she said, her voice a conspiratorial whisper, "what it'd be like to kiss him."

He had to take a few moments to catch his breath. "I'm sure...," he paused. Cleared his throat. Tried again. "I'm sure he wonders the same thing about you."

"Oh?" Usagi paused, "Hmm." He thought he heard a muffled squeak, as if she was covering her mouth, or - if movies were to be believed - maybe screaming into a pillow? She came back fully recovered: "Well, my lipgloss is strawberry flavored, if that helps any."

He half-signed, half-groaned, leaning his head back on the sofa with an exasperated look. "It does not, Odango Atama."

The gasp on the other end of the line was almost inaudible, but the gravity was not lost on Mamoru - calling her that nickname made it official, their phone conversations now merged with real life in a way that was irreversible.

It felt good. Almost giddy.

"What... what happens when I see you tomorrow?" Usagi asked, her voice taking on that shy, hesitant quality again.

"Well," Mamoru said, still smiling, "I guess we'll just have to wait and see."

* * *

**the Fuji-san joke was my attempt at pun (like "is your refrigerator running?" "you better catch it!" type stuff), Fuji-san means Mt. Fuji but '-san' can also mean Mister - like a person's name.

gosh I don't know. I tried. ha ha.

You know what? I think sometimes it's fun to just remember these are teenagers, and have them just... act like teenagers together. Adorkable awkward crushing-on-each-other teenagers. This was refreshing to write. Thanks for the prompt, IV!


	4. Chapter 4

Hi there!

The next AU "high school best friends AU" has been turned into it's own 3-4 chapter story! Please see the first chapter as posted under "Time After Time"!

And tune in next week for the final AU one-shot. :)


	5. Chapter 5

**Prompt 5: I combined two -" Villians A.u." and "Superhero love triangle with Usagi as the hero and Mamoru as the love interest. Bonus if he's a reporter."**

Didn't really get the love triangle in there, but I did my best to tell a story from these prompts! Let me know what you think!

* * *

Chiba Mamoru takes off his glasses and rubs his fingers on the bridge of his nose. It's midnight and the paper has already gone to press, and he still has nothing.

Getting in as a junior journalist at the biggest paper in Tokyo should thrill the recent graduate enough, but so far he's been unable to nab the story he really wants - the one he knows would make his career. Looking at the papers scattered along his desk, he loosens his tie and picks up one blurry black-and-white picture. Sailor Moon. The notorious villain who has been robbing jewelry stores and banks all over the city, and a bit of a personal obsession for the young journalist.

In the photo, she stands on a balcony in her short-skirted sailor suit, turning to leave, long blonde twin tails blowing in the wind, and faces the camera for a moment. It's hard to tell in the grainy photograph, but her eyes almost look sad.

Mamoru sighs and pushes the photo aside, having an internal debate between more coffee and sleep. Tonight anyway, sleep wins out.

* * *

Usagi Tsukino hurls herself through an open window with unpracticed gracelessness. She lands on her feet, barely, and touches the brooch on her chest, her sailor outfit fading away into torn jeans and a pink sweatshirt with a bunny on it. The occupant of the room looks up, mild concern in her feline eyes. "All okay, Sailor Moon?" The cat asks and the girl sighs, sliding her eyes to the doorway. The computer lab is deserted except for them, the hum of machinery quieted for the night. Instead, it's only Usagi's heavy breathing as she shakes her head, the din of sirens as they grow louder then quieter and quieter, fading into the distance.

"Let's see what we came up with this time, Luna," the girl says, and jewels spill out onto the desk in front of her.

Diamonds, jades, and rubies, but nothing that calls out to Luna as she inspects each piece. "No," she says, finally and Usagi deflates. "Don't worry," the cat says, nuzzling Usagi a bit. "We'll find it."

The blonde nods, then stands, shaking the sorrow from her eyes. "I guess it's time to call V-chan."

V-chan. Sailor V. The hero of Tokyo. And Sailor Moon's secret accomplice.

* * *

V-chan's smile lights up the empty juku computer room that moonlights as Usagi's secret lair (all good villains need lairs, right?). The taller blonde engulfs Usagi in a hug as warm as sunshine and as soft as blankets.

She gathers to the jewels to take back to the store, having 'defeated' the nefarious Sailor Moon once again. And once again, she begs Luna and Artemis to just let her tell the truth.

"Let me tell them Usagi isn't a bad guy, that she's only stealing to find the item that could help save the wor-"

It's Usagi who interrupts her. "They'll find out soon enough," she says encouragingly, in the same tone Luna uses on her in the darkest nights. "I'll protect the world from the growing darkness with the light of the silver crystal - once we find it."

Sailor V looks at her, sadness in cornflower blue eyes. "I'm playing the hero while you truly are," she says. "Seems I am still your decoy, Princess."

Usagi touches her hand to her heart, her sweatshirt and jeans seem for a moment as if they should be a flowing regal dress. Sailor V returns the gesture and disappears into the night, the room now absent the jewels, a white cat, and the only person who loves the persona known as Sailor Moon.

* * *

And, irony of ironies, Usagi works at a jewelry store - her best friend's family's and one she had to rob one of her first nights as Sailor Moon. Luna had awakened her reluctantly, out of necessity as the Dark Kingdom grows in power. They need her - the princess - to defeat it. Well, they need the princess and a gem called the Silver Crystal. A gem she doesn't have. A gem she's had to search for since that fateful night.

Her friend notices her yawn and smirks a bit. "Up late reading manga again, Usagi?"

'Hey, being an ancient princess with a bloodline curse is exhausting!' Usagi pretends in her mind she can share this with her oldest friend, and instead just giggles and nods. "Sure, you know it."

Naru's voice lowers, "I heard Sailor Moon knocked over another jewelry store last night." Her tone is disgusted, fearful and it makes Usagi's heart break.

"She never hurts anyone..." Usagi trails off, lamely and Naru shrugs.

"Only a matter of time if you ask me."

They are interrupted, mercifully, by customers.

* * *

"Minako, no." Artemis's voice is firm, and as unyielding and headstrong as she is, usually Minako knows to listen to that voice. The voice that says this will hurt our mission, hurt our princess, hurt you.

"It's not fair, Artemis," Minako mutters, slumping into her pink fuzzy desk chair and tucking her feet beneath her. The city splays out behind her window, all sparkling signs and engine din and smog colored by lights. High above it all, the moon wanes, dim and sickly through the city air.

"None of this was ever fair," the cat counters.

"Even if I could just hint at her true purpose-"

"You think the Dark Kingdom doesn't read the newspapers?" Artemis says, scattering the pile of business cards with his paw. Minako's collection, gathered from various press conferences, or pressed into her palm as she talks with police, or even left perched on rooftops after she returns the jewels Sailor Moon 'stole.' Journalists. Investigators. Photographers. They all want to talk to the famous Sailor V, the hero of Tokyo, the nemesis of the horrible, thieving Sailor Moon.

Except one. The card is not embossed, not luxurious card stock, and not embellished with titles or accolades. Just a name; Chiba Mamoru, Tokyo News Times, a phone number. And a handwritten note scrawled on the back. The note -and the feeling deep in her gut about the man behind the card - makes her hide it away from even herself. 'I want to talk about Sailor Moon'

Now, she pulls the card out, careful not to wake Artemis who has curled in a ball, sleep real or feigned (she can never tell), looking it over once again.

Looking out the window into the darkening night, her eyes narrow, fingers still brushing the business card. 'Endymion...'

* * *

Mamoru drums his fingers on the table, eyes trained on the door in front of him. There is a computer in front of him and rows of manga to his left but he doesn't look at any of them, although technically they are the reason he's paid for the private room. It wasn't his idea to meet in one of the internet manga cafe's private rooms, but he had to admit it was a genius one - Sailor V really is as clever as they say.

He was surprised to get a call from her, from what he discovered was a pay phone in Juuban shopping district, and all she gave him was a time and place. Mamoru reached one nervous hand into his pocket, tracing the edge of a photograph with his finger. Sailor Moon. How much would the heroine be willing to say about her arch-enemy? Did she feel, as Mamoru did, that there must be more under the surface - or did she simply hate Sailor Moon like the rest of the city, scapegoating her for all that is wrong in their lives?

The door opens and Mamoru stands, banging his knee on the table and stumbling but not feeling any pain. A blonde, blue-eyed sailor suited warrior stands before him, but it's not Sailor V.

Sailor Moon looks as surprised as he does, suspicion coloring her face almost instantly. She'd walked in and paid for a room as Usagi Tsukino, transforming quickly in the empty hallway before entering the room. She expected to see Luna and Sailor V, not this young man in front of her. Something inside her pulls taut when she looks into his blue eyes, turbulent and... nervous.

Of course, he's frightened, she thinks. Who wouldn't be, face to face with Sailor Moon?

Mamoru holds his hands up in the air, in an unthreatening way, still silently searching Sailor Moon's gaze. Slowly, as if in front of a skittish animal, he lowers his hand to his pocket and pulls out a table recorder, which he raises to show her. He presses 'record' and sets it down on the table, taking a step back.

"Sailor Moon-," he starts, clears his throat. Starts again. "My name is Chiba Mamoru. I'm a reporter with the Tokyo News Times. I was... I was hoping to speak with you."

"Why?"

"I understand you've been implicated in a number of robberies throughout the city-"

She smirks, but it doesn't reach her eyes. "Sure have," she says, trying to inject a bragging tone to her voice.

"Why?" He asks, looking right at her, hands lowered now. "The jewels are always returned, never fenced... what do you steal them for?"

"I'm the bad guy," she says. "Greed. I like pretty things. I want to terrorize the city," she spreads her gloved hands. "Take your pick. Which one sells more papers?"

"The truth," he answers, looking right at her. "Always worked the best for me."

She falters, crosses her arms protectively in front of her. It's not a haughty, villainous stance, Mamoru thinks. She looks... vulnerable.

"I'm not afraid of you," he offers. "You've never hurt anyone and I don't think that's a happy accident."

"Well, what do you think?" She snaps and he waves his hand at the tape recorder again.

"It doesn't matter what I think."

For a long moment she stares at him, wondering at the deja vu - she swears she's seen his face before, felt this tug at her heart in her dreams. "I'll tell you," she says. "I steal because I want to, because I can. Only when Sailor V catches me, the goods are returned."

It's every time, but Mamoru doesn't mention that.

"I'm not going to stop, and woe to anyone who gets in my way." She faces him again, arms down and face defiant. He tries not to find her beautiful. He fails.

She reaches out, a sudden movement but Mamoru doesn't flinch like she expects him too. One gloved finger turns off the tape recorder with a loud click that seems to echo through the intensity of the room.

"Don't go asking questions you don't want the answers to, Chiba Mamoru," she says, and it's hard to deny his name on her lips sends a thrill down his spine.

"But I do want them-"

She shakes her head, lips pulling tight. Some things are meant to be kept secret. The impending possible end of the world is one of them.

"You want to know what I think?" She doesn't answer, so he continues, in a soft voice. "I don't think you are evil. I don't even think you are bad. And I don't think Sailor V does either."

"You'd be the only two in Tokyo," Sailor Moon says, unable to keep the bitterness from her voice.

"Then let me tell everyone," he insists. "Let me write a story about you that reveals..." he waved his hand toward her, "this side of you. Tell me why you always look so sad..." Tell me how to make you happy.

She shakes her head again, and reaches out, over the table, resting her fingertips on his wrist. "There's no need. Let them think what they want to about me."

"But-"

"It's easier," she sighs, and doesn't explain. He reaches out to cover her hand with his, but she withdraws it from his wrist and turns to leave without so much as a good bye.

* * *

The newspaper article comes out - it's small and buried but it's there. "Sailor Moon: More Than Meets the Eye?" It's not conclusive, merely a speculative piece based on the interaction Mamoru recorded. Nothing said after she turned it off made it in. And there on the by-line is that now-familiar name: Chiba Mamoru.

"Why did you send me to meet him?" Usagi asks and Minako only shrugs.

"It was time you got a write-up from someone who actually believes in you," is all she'll say, but Usagi senses that's not the whole story.

They both agree not to tell Luna and Artemis.

* * *

She climbs through the window even though the office is on the fifth story. It's nighttime and everyone but Mamoru has left; he wonders how she knew.

"I don't know if I should thank you or scold you," she says, silhouetted against the window. He turns and can't help a small, slow smile.

"Sailor Moon," he says and she holds up a hand.

"Off the record?" She steps closer. He stands and reaches out, fingertips brushing her elbow.

"Okay."

"I feel like I know you." It's a breathed statement and Mamoru is entranced.

"I feel like I'd like to know you," he answers.

She's the scourge of Tokyo, a wanted criminal, and they are standing in the news office surrounded by glass windows. It's a terrible idea to kiss, and they know that, and it doesn't stop them.

At first it's a tentative brush of the lips, not sure who leans into whom, just that - like gravity - they are pulled together with only the gentlest of hesitation. She curls gloved fingers in his hair at the nape of his neck brushing the collar of his shirt, and his hands rest on her uniformed waist, pulling her closer as her lips open under his.

Sirens in the distance wrench them apart, even as the sound passes, and fades, the moment is broken. She meets his eyes once, the sadness in her expression is a strange deja vu that breaks his heart. One last, longing look, and she is gone.

* * *

It is only a matter of time before the police actually catch Sailor Moon. Sailor V had always hopes it would be after they found the Silver Crystal. She is wrong.

It's a beanbag gun that catches Sailor Moon's leg, sending her down from the window ledge in a scattering of jewelry. The cops haul her up by her arms, cuff her wrists together behind her back. Eyes burning with shame, she refuses to look around at the group of spectators, photographers and... journalists. She knows Mamoru is probably among them, and perhaps his newest story about Sailor Moon will have a different ending...

"Venus Love-me Chain!" It throws the crowd into shock, into panic, as the gold-linked chain of hearts hurls toward the officers and licks them away (no harm to them, but it melts Usagi's handcuffs right off). In a moment Sailor V is standing beside Sailor Moon, in a circle of accusatory glares and mobilizing police units.

It's then, of course, that a dark cloud grows in the sky.

The Dark Kingdom has come.

* * *

They fight as best they can. It's not enough.

"He has the power to fight!" Sailor V cries to her companion, gesturing to Mamoru who stands a bit ahead of the cowering crowds. He watches with a keen expression, wind blowing his tie back, tangling his dark hair.

"What?" There is no time for her confusion, for her need for answers. Instead she simply shouts back, over the howling dark wind. "No! He must stay safe!" Whatever power Mamoru has, his greatest one is making Usagi feel happy - even for a few seconds. She won't loose that. She can't.

Sailor Moon dodges another attack and sends her tiara flying - a desperate spark of light against the blackness chasing them down. A shapeless black form knocks her from her window ledge, down a story and crashing into Mamoru's waiting arms.

"What are you doing here?" She cries, facing him with a panicked expression. "You need to run!" She presses her lips to his, a quick, desperate kiss before pulling back, hands on the side of his face. "Please, please run!"

"I won't leave you-" His hands tighten around her waist.

It's then the wind picks up, swirls around a large and undoubtedly evil entity that rises from the dark mist like a specter before taking awful form.

"Queen Beryl," Sailor V murmurs, heart sinking.

It's time. There is still no Silver Crystal.

* * *

Sailor V distracts as best she can. It's not enough, and Beryl sees right through Usagi's disguise.

"Princess..." the hiss is oil and death, rot and destruction. "I've found you."

Clawed hands curl around a black crystal, sharp as a knife and pulsing with power. Beryl pulls back, and hurls it directly at Sailor Moon faster than Sailor V can get there.

But not faster than Mamoru can.

It's over almost before Sailor Moon realizes what has happened. Mamoru's blood is warm and sticky on her gloves, crimson soaking into the white. The black crystal that impales him slowly flickers and fades, as if it wasn't corporeal after all. The wound, however, remains. Brilliant blue eyes look up at Sailor Moon, focus on her just once, lips try to tug into a smile, but it fades as his eyes close.

And she remembers everything.

The scream tears from her throat, echoing through the city. The gray building stands like a grave.

It's then she cries, a tear that grows brighter and brighter.

A white light engulfs the city.

* * *

Later, people would say it was deus ex machina, angels, or the gods themselves raining down mercy as a weapon against the ills of humanity.

But in the end, it was like all stories. It was only a girl. It was only a boy. It was only the barely prevented destruction of the world.

* * *

Mamoru cringes as he sits in his desk chair, the pain pulling at his center still raw and new, although healing nicely (miraculously, according to the doctors). His coworkers slap him on the back and welcome him back, and congratulate him on the story of the year - written mostly from a hospital bed - front page news with a two-inch headline.

Telling the story of Sailor Moon. How she and Sailor V have disappeared. How the most hated villain in Tokyo was just a young woman who gave everything to save the city (and him, he adds silently, every time). He thinks the hole in his heart will never heal, not from this. Not from losing her.

He's only just turned on his computer when a soft ahem makes him raise his eyes. A girl stands before him, lovely in the innocent way only youth can be, large blue eyes and a sweet, hesitant smile.

"Chiba Mamoru?" She asks, and for some reason his name on her tongue sends a small thrill through his spine, the first time he's felt anything but crushing grief in days. She reaches out her hand and he takes it, numbly, her skin soft beneath his fingers. "My name is Tsukino Usagi. I was wondering if you'd join me for coffee."

Blue eyes meet, and spark.

"Off the record."


End file.
